


Break It Off

by NanakiBH



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: AU, Biting, Bloodplay, Break Up, M/M, post-MGS4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-25
Updated: 2008-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:38:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanakiBH/pseuds/NanakiBH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some decisions are easier to make than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break It Off

Jack hung his legs over the side of the bed, feeling strangely numb. The limbs that were reattached didn't feel like his own. It was a little like they had given him somebody else's parts because these ones just didn't feel right anymore. He didn't feel human. No matter how many nights he spent next to Rose after they went home together, he just didn't feel her like he thought he should. Every touch was numb, dulled, artificial.

He realized then that it all was a lie. Rose was real and so was their son. But her feelings, the things they had manufactured to his ideals and tastes in women were all there still. She barely changed at all. She still wore the same lipstick they told her to, even wore the same perfume every day. She wasn't his. She may have embodied everything he preferred in a woman, but he didn't want any more artificiality.

He flexed his fingers, hoping with every ounce of his being that he could register the feeling again like he used to, to feel... alive.

A child.

A small laugh escaped his lips despite himself and he hung his head. That had to be a joke. He'd given something life, while he felt like he was becoming more dead. The stitches that kept his arms and legs attached to him did nothing to keep his heart from tearing apart at the seams. Nothing belonged to him. He'd fathered a child with a woman he felt of little more than a mannequin. He wasn't sure who he felt worse for; the kid or himself.

It was hard to believe, but he realized he felt the most alive when he was the closest to being a corpse, when he was nothing but a head and a body of steel parts and white hot blood. Every knife the Romanian demon buried in his flesh sent a rush through his senses and make him ache to feel more. Until then, he hadn't realized his own desire for pain. It gave him something real, something that he could feel. The wounds would remain and they'd be there for him to trace his fingers along and remember, comforted by their reality.

This body... The scars were gone. There were none of the marks left on him by Vamp. He almost resented getting his real body back because it meant he lost a little bit of that evidence. Then again, he was sure that his real body would not have been able to withstand the abuse Vamp pummeled his suit with. Vamp was a little too rough sometimes.

He let himself laugh this time and the figure next to him on the bed shifted and flung a weak arm in his direction in a poor attempt at reaching out to him.

He glanced behind himself at Vamp who lay sprawled beneath the sheets, looking haggard with his hair in various directions. It was unusually... cute. It was a comfort to see the invincible Vamp himself acting like a sleepy child at nine in the morning.

"Isn't it too early for you?" he murmured in that luxurious accent, his R's rolled sensuously over his tongue, his O's breathed coolly like a breath in winter.

Jack gave one more glance down at his legs, feeling his heart constrict while he studied the scars that ran horizontal across each thigh where the stitches had been.

Vamp sighed tiredly, grabbing at Jack's hip. "What do you need?"

It was unexplainable why he hadn't killed the man. He asked for it even, but something kept him from doing it. Maybe it was that chase. It just didn't feel right to let it end that way. He felt like Vamp had given him so much, even if they were enemies. As a result, he had secured himself a haven. The night he slammed the door behind him when he walked out for the last time, he didn't know what to do with himself. He just knew he couldn't go back. He couldn't stay and yell anymore, couldn't stay and see the hollow look in his kid's eyes.

The stars faded as the sky filled with yellow and orange as he wandered aimlessly for hours with no destination. The only thing to stop him were the arms around his waist when he finally collapsed in exhaustion. The next thing he knew, he'd awoken on a stranger's couch in someone's apartment, not sure what exactly had happened but damn glad he wasn't at home.

He had been somewhat surprised when he saw Vamp saunter into the room. Even more surprised when he found out he wasn't intent on settling their score, whatever that was anyway.

He introduced himself for once, as Jack, as a person.

Tentatively, he placed a hand over Vamp's, rubbing his fingers over his knuckles, pleased by how warm his skin felt to the touch. He wasn't stiff. He didn't offer him any sickening sweetness when he acted this way. He was the opposite of her, he realized. No other thought had ever pleased Jack more.

Dragging himself back onto the bed, he lay down next to him and looked into Vamp's sleep glazed eyes. "Kiss me," he said, more of a command than a request.

"Gladly." Why not? They'd done more than that just the night before. For a solid week, Jack tried to do nothing but bury the maddeningly loud thoughts of her with the creaking of bedsprings. He was working on familiarizing himself with Vamp's warm mouth and agile tongue. He was fantastic at erasing worries with nimble fingers and delicate touches. It was a surprise in itself how gentle he was with him. It wasn't like he had to treat him like a fragile girl but Vamp wasn't just being gentle. He practically worshiped his body with the reverence he gave him in every touch he laid. Jack realized that his penchant for knives and bloodshed must have come from the real respect he had for the human body and not just some sick fascination. He never complained.

Vamp broke away first and took Jack's chin firmly between his fingers. "Everyone has something they don't want the world to know."

The words sunk in slowly like morphine to his heart. That's what he wanted. Privacy to be as fucked up as he wanted without anybody telling him it was okay to be that way. He hated being this way and he didn't want to be okay with it.

"Can you..." He wasn't sure Vamp would jump to fulfill the request he had in mind now, but he could try. "Can you cut me?"

At first, he just stared, as if considering it thoughtfully, then laughed, burying his face in the pillow.

"What's so funny about that? I just... I don't have any of the ones you left on me in our last fight anymore. Those scars are gone." The scars that held him together meant nothing, just that he was somebody's old doll, sewn back together. Even if it was his own choice, he didn't expect to return to the life he left.

"And what would be the point in scarring you now? Just to do it? They wouldn't mean anything."

He had a feeling he would turn it down but he wanted it all the same. Vamp was always pretty adamant about what he would and wouldn't do, though. Blood had thus far been out of the question, if only for the sake of his continued recovery. He was unusually thoughtful for a guy who had tried to kill him only a short time ago. Then again, Vamp seemed to have gained a new lease on life and that might have been what kept him from inflicting anymore undue pain on anyone else.

After spending a few moments in silence in the half-darkness of the bedroom, Vamp pushed himself up on an elbow and leaned over Jack, hair brushing lightly against his chest. "Jack," he murmured, voice husky and low, "are you mine?"

He wasn't sure what it was, really, but a feeling sunk swiftly in his chest, hot and overwhelming. Was it fear? The rush it gave him was definitely something like it but it was more intense, drawing him closer to the man before him. The meaning of such simple words had made him feel like this and he wasn't sure quite what to make of it.

If he was Vamp's, then she could be gone forever.

Slowly, warily, he lifted a hand to tangle in Vamp's hair, pulling him down closer. His eyes narrowed. "I'm yours."

With a knowing sort of smile, Vamp closed his eyes and leaned down to kiss him. The way his lips caressed his sent a shiver down Jack's spine, making his toes curl. His attention moved to his jaw, leaving a trail of kisses down to his neck, stopping to suck lightly, drawing appreciative moans from Jack. His moans turned into a startled gasp when he felt Vamp's sharp canines penetrate his skin. His pulse quickened, his awareness suddenly much greater despite the dizzying effect the sudden drop in blood pressure was having on him. He'd seen Vamp do this to other people before (if only to keep up an image, it seemed) but now that he was on the receiving end, it seemed a lot more... erotic.

"V-Vamp," he gasped, fingers grasping weakly at the back of his neck as he continued to lick and suck. His teeth had a good hold on him, it felt. If he intended to leave some sizable punctures, this would definitely do it.

He released him with a wet noise, heard and not seen to Jack. His eyes had long since rolled back in his head. Breathing ragged, he cracked open an eye to see his new lover tracing a thumb along his bottom lip, luscious tongue licking the digit clean.

"There, at your request." He dipped his head and ran his tongue over the open and bleeding wounds on his neck. Grabbing Jack's jaw, he pulled him into a kiss, slipping in his tongue so he tasted his own blood mix with his saliva.

'Don't knock it 'til you try it,' they say. Jack was now a firm believer.

Vamp lay down next to him again, calmly running his fingertips around the holes he'd created. "These will mean you belong to me, always there for you to look at." Even if he wasn't the one with the holes in his neck, Jack noticed that he looked to be about as tired as he felt. Or maybe he was just satisfied. The guy was weird, but just the right kind of weird for Jack.

He rolled over on his side to face him, putting his hand over the marks, making sure he wasn't still bleeding. They felt satisfyingly deep; no doubt they'd leave nice raised scars.

It was impossible for him to think about anything else the rest of the morning, falling back asleep with Vamp's lips on his own.


End file.
